Teddy

THE LOUD MUSIC AT ROXY'S PUMPS THROUGH my brain as Rylie and I stand at the bar to order our drinks. I avoid looking at the corner where our usual spot is, not wanting to make eye contact with any of my friends. Rylie orders me some fruity drink that looks suspiciously similar to the one she made me at my house, and I take a small sip through the tiny cocktail straw.

Scrunching up my face, I glare at her. "Ew. What's with these sweet drinks tonight? What's wrong with beer?"

"Beer is for sitting at a high-top table, BSing with friends. Tonight we dance. Remember?" She twirls the straw around in her drink, looking over my shoulder. "Looks like the whole gang is here tonight, too. Come on, let's go show ourselves."

Before I can object, she is hauling me across the busy bar. My heart hammers the closer we get to my friends, and I suddenly wish I would have chugged the rest of the drink at my place.

"Well, if it isn't Wylie Rylie," Finn says as we stop in front of their group of tables. "Hi there, kitty cat."

She purrs at him before sinking into the open seat next to him. I awkwardly stand rooted in place, swirling the straw in my drink. I feel an arm loop over my shoulders and when I realize it's Kelly, I lean into him, grateful for the comfort.

"Hey," he whispers. "Didn't know if you'd show up tonight, but I see you let Rylie doll you up."

I elbow him when he moves his eyes down to check me out. "Fuck off, Kelly."

Laughing, he abandons me for the seat across from Rylie, who winks at him. "Look at that, all my favorite hot men have arrived." She purrs at him and Kelly winks back.

"I didn't realize it was feral animal night at Roxy's," Sutton huffs, jumping off her seat and stomping off.

Kelly turns to watch her go, and Rylie instantly calls him out on it. "Checking out your best friend's baby sister, huh, Kelly?"

He faces her with an evil smirk. "Well, aren't you just a shit stirrer tonight."

"Always, baby. Always." She winks at him again, which elicits a laugh from Kelly.

"Come join us, Teddy," Finn calls over the music to me, pushing out the chair on the other side of him. "We won't bite."

"Nope! She's not sitting tonight." Rylie rounds the table to me, points to my glass and makes a drinking gesture.

When I've drank nearly the whole thing, she takes the glass from me, plunks it on the table and pulls me toward the makeshift dance floor. Since it's still fairly early in the night, there are only a handful of people dancing. The way they gyrate against each other tells me they started drinking long before we did.

"Rylie!" I whimper. "Don't make me do this. You know I don't dance unless I'm completely sloshed."

"Fine," she relents, cradling me under her arm as she guides me back to the bar. We fall onto stools at the bar top and she holds up two fingers to Randy, the bartender. "Did you see the way Jensen was looking at you?"

"What?" I whip around to survey my groups of friends at the table in the corner. I hadn't been brave enough to look at who was in attendance, opting to stare at the contents of my pink drink instead.

Now I could see my best friend, and he was staring right at me. We share a look for a heated moment before he breaks eye contact.

Spinning back around in my seat, I groan. "Shit. He's here."

"Yeah, he is. And the plan is working. The guy can't keep his eyes off you."

Randy sets two glasses of the same pink drink in front of us and I groan. "Come on, Rylie. No more with this shit."

"Yes, yes, drink up." She scoots the glass closer to me. "Dancing juice."

Pretty sure that's what the drink should be called because as soon as we down the whole thing, I'm feeling lighter and ready to dance. Rylie whoops and links our arms together and we make our way back to the dance floor. More people have meandered over by now and we get lost in the crowd, bumping and grinding together. At one point, we're circled by a group of guys. When one places his hands on my hips to pull me into him, I shove him off and excuse myself.

I'm covered in a sheen of sweat and in desperate need of something to drink. I plop onto a seat at the bar top and wave to Randy to get his attention. It's crowded at the bar now, people congregating near the alcohol source. After I place my order—beer this time—I spot Jensen at the other end of the bar. He's smiling down at a blonde I don't recognize. My stomach immediately squeezes. I can't peel my eyes away from the scene. The way she trails a finger over his bicep. The way he leans his head next to her ear to tell her something. The way she tips her head back in laughter. It's then, with the girl's head out of the way, that he notices me.

I gulp the minute our eyes meet. He takes a step back from the girl, but she erases the space between them instantly. She must notice she's lost his attention because she looks over her shoulder and notices me gawking at them. Placing a hand on his chest in a possessive gesture, she stands on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He nods down at her, takes her hand, and leads her through the crowd of people and out the building.

The minute the door closes behind them, I bend over, clutching my stomach.

"Fuck," I whisper. I abandon the full beer and race toward the exit, not bothering to tell my friend goodbye. I just need out. To run away from this awful feeling.

In the parking lot, I search for my car before remembering Rylie drove. I could use the fresh air anyway to clear my head, so I set out in the direction of my apartment. Before I get far, though, I see a figure stalking toward Roxy's, his shoulders held tensely as if he's angry. It's then that I notice it's Jensen.

My feet stall. He hasn't discovered me yet, and I contemplate ducking behind a car, but before I have a chance to hide, he sees me.

The minute we lock eyes, he points his finger at me, erasing the distance between us in two large strides. "You," he says.

"What are you doing back? Did Barbie do something to piss you off already?" I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly livid at the man.

"Where's Ajax tonight? Didn't you have a date?" Jensen mimics my stance, squaring off in front of me.

"If you bothered to stick around long enough that day, Jensen, you would have known I turned him down. I don't want to date Jackson, you stupid idiot." I poke him hard in his chest.

He grabs my finger and holds it captive in his hand. "Yeah, well, I couldn't go home with that girl. I wanted to. No, I thought I needed to. Wanted to try something to distract myself."

"Distract you from what?"

"You, Teddy. Distract me from you."

"God!" I scream, throwing my hands up in the air. "You are such a stupid jerk sometimes!" I shove him in the chest, but he barely budges. "You are so confusing. Your mixed signals are messing with me. Why do you have to be so hot and cold all the time?"

"I'm confused, Teddy! I don't know what to do."

"Why'd you kiss me? That night on the tailgate. Why did you kiss me and then take it back? Either you meant to do it or you didn't. Which is it?" I'm back to crossing my arms over my chest, trying to contain the urge to shove him again.

He runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. "Fuck, I don't know. I was caught up in the moment, I guess."

A few beats pass in silence. Jensen clenches his jaw and fists his hands at his sides. Finally, I break the quiet and ask, "If I wouldn't have gotten sick that night, what would have happened?" I can tell by the expression that quickly passes over his face that he knows I'm referring to the infamous New Year's Eve that we've pretended never happened all these years.

"Teddy," he warns.

"Just answer the question, J. What would have happened?"

"What are we doing, Teddy? This isn't us. We don't fight. We don't get jealous." He rakes his hands through his hair again and starts pacing a small perimeter in front of me.

"Answer the question, J. Why won't you just answer?"

He abruptly stops in front of me, arms stretched out wide. "Teddy! Jesus! You know what would have happened! I was seconds away from losing all control and fucking you! Sometimes I'm so grateful you got sick. And sometimes I'm so..."

"So what, Jensen? Finish the sentence."

"No. Let's just take a minute. We aren't thinking clearly. This isn't us."

"Jensen! Finish the fucking sentence! Sometimes you what?"

He steps into my space, just inches separating us, but doesn't touch me. "Sometimes I'm so fucking mad you got sick because it fucking haunts me. Haunts me! Ok? You happy? You like knowing that I regret not knowing what it's like to fuck my best friend? Jesus. Teddy. What the fuck are we doing? What are we doing?"

Finally, he touches me, his light grip on my upper arms and soft caresses with his thumbs are in complete contrast with the roughness of his voice. It ignites goosebumps on my arms.

"It seems we're finally being honest for the first time ever. Congratulations. How does it feel? It feels fucking awful to me."

His grip on my arms tightens before slipping down to grasp my elbows. "Awful? Jesus, Teddy. Is it really so bad to think of fucking me?"

I break free from his arms and take a step back, putting much needed distance between us. "No, J. That's not what feels awful. What feels awful is the way you're looking at me. As if the very thought of wanting to fuck me disgusts you."

He throws his arms up in the air, letting them fall with a hard thunk against his thighs. "That's what you think this is? Disgust? I'm not disgusted, Teddy! I'm torn up. I'm terrified. I'm confused. I don't know how to deal with these feelings anymore. I can't fucking stop them. I feel out of control. I hate not knowing what to do. But I'm not disgusted. I'm mad at myself. I'm mad at you. I'm mad at us. We aren't supposed to be like this. This isn't us. You're supposed to be my best friend, but all I can think about is kissing you again. Fuck, I just really want to kiss you again. That's why I kissed you on my tailgate the other night. Because I wanted to. Because I've wanted to for so long. And it's fucking me up, Teddy. It isn't right. I shouldn't want to kiss you so fucking bad. Right?"

As he was talking, he was stepping closer to me, erasing the distance between us. He pauses, the air whooshing out of him in a gust, an imploring look in his eyes, and then he quietly asks, "I shouldn't...right?"

"Right," I agree right before I throw my arms around his neck and lightly brush my lips across his. "You shouldn't want to but fuck it. Do it anyway."

He smashes his mouth onto mine for a hard, quick kiss. Then he pauses to study my face, his breathing erratic. Whatever he sees on my face must be enough permission because he grabs my waist and ushers me back a handful of paces until my back hits the brick wall of the building. Then he leans in and devours my mouth.